The Rebellion
by OtakuEntertainmentInc
Summary: That last war didn't end so well for their side. Sure, there were survivors, but in the almost two and a half years since, no one has seen their 'saviour,' simply because he doesn't want to be found.
1. Prologue

**Alternate Circumstances:** _That last war didn't turn out so well for their side. The Moon's Eye plan was foiled, thankfully, and the undead army and White Zetsus all but eliminated . . . but dark forces still hold the upper hand. _

_The majority of the Allied Shinobi Forces broke and ran, leaving their leaders no choice but to go into hiding as well. They scattered across the nations, the entire infrastructure of shinobi and Hidden Villages falling into shambles. Close friends lost touch, former four-man cells were separated, and worst of all, their would-be saviour was gone. _

_In the aftermath of the final battle, no one knew the whereabouts of Uzumaki Naruto._

**The Rebellion**

**Prologue**

The desert was a forsaken wasteland, nothing but sand or rock in any direction as far as he could see or had dared explore. In this place, he was loath to stray too far from the cropping of sand-blasted stone where he lived.

No. He didn't _live_ . . . he _existed._

Every day was a constant battle for survival against the heat, the sun, and any predators that lurked among the crumbled stone buildings. The man supposed it might have once been a city, filled with life, but that was gone now. The people that must once have lived here were gone, their possessions were gone, any trace of who they might have been was gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

He knew the place like the back of his hand; the twisting streets, the decrepit buildings. He knew places to hide when the wild dogs would chase him, he knew where their dens were, and the times that they went out hunting. He knew where to find water, he knew how to find food, he knew where there were caches of weapons to defend himself with.

He knew how to use the weapons, and he knew how to fight . . . that's what kept him alive in this place. He knew to find shelter once the sun went down, so that he wouldn't freeze. He knew the feeling of sleeping with one eye open, and of a scorpion crawling up his leg.

He knew how to survive.

According to the wall where he kept count of his time in the abandoned city, he had been here for exactly eight hundred and sixty days. Two years, and four months. Next to the some of the vertical 'day' marks were tiny horizontal marks. Those were the days he'd seen people, other than himself, walking about the ruins. He never showed himself, always watching from a distance, following, until they left and walked out into the desert.

He'd gone so long without human contact — exactly one year and seventy-three days — before seeing the first person in the city. He no longer craved the sound of another's voice. Silence was his life; in the silence, he could hear a threat sneaking up on him.

A total of twenty-six people had come to the ruins looking for . . . whatever they were looking for. Whatever it was, they never seemed to find it; they always left looking sad. Some had wept over damaged houses, or at the narrow cleft in the surrounding cliffs that separated the city from the desert.

The man lived a lonely existence, and a hard one . . . but he was satisfied.


	2. Discovery

_A/N: Hello! Thanks for choosing 'The Rebellion.' As I explained at the start of the prologue, this is a 'what if' sort of story. What if the Allied Shinobi Forces won the battle, but not the war? What if they were defeated, so much so that they became scattered and hunted? Read on to find out; it may seem a little slow at the start, but give it a chance. You should see a very familiar face if you look closely enough! :3_

* * *

**Chapter One**

"Are we _there yet_? Seems like we've been walking toward the outer wall forever . . . ."

Gritting her teeth, the dark-haired girl rolled her eyes skyward, praying for patience. "Genji, I swear, if you ask me that _one more time_, I'm going to make you eat sand."

"If it was a _sand_wich, I wouldn't mind." Following just behind his companion, red-haired Genji had both hands stuck in his pockets, the long scarf around his neck pulled up over his nose and mouth to prevent him from breathing in any windblown grit. His hair, pulled back in a ponytail, flapped over his shoulder as wind hit the two of them from behind. "Come on, Yurei, lighten up. You're so tense."

"We're going to a ghost town; there's nothing relaxing about that," the girl quipped, scowling harder. Her clothing, in contrast to her friend's varied shades of purple, was a mixture of teal and dark blue; comfortable to wear in almost any setting. A full eight inches stood between the two of them in height, Genji being nearly six feet and Yurei barely passing five.

"Still, it'll be nice to see the old fort after so long." The words were off-hand, but Genji's voice held a touch of irony. Though neither of them wore a _hitai-ate_, both were former Sunagakure ninja.

They walked on in silence, the outer wall drawing steadily closer as time passed. At long last, they entered its shadow, feeling relief from the harsh desert sun. Unwrapping the scarf from around his face, Genji took a deep breath.

"Man, that feels better. I think my chin was starting to sweat."

Yurei glanced back at him. ". . . Okay . . . ew. Why are we talking about chin sweat?"

"Well, we weren't, but since you brought it up—"

"I AM NOT DISCUSSING THIS WITH YOU."

In the cleft, the cliff walls rising high above them, it was notably cooler. As they paused for a drink, Yurei checked the afternoon light. "About four hours of daylight left. We should find someplace to hole up for the night."

Genji wiped his mouth, eyes carefully scanning the surrounding area. "Yeah. What about the Kazekage's tower? We'd have a good view from there; make sure nothing sneaks up on us."

"Sounds good."

Starting off again, they emerged on the main street, practiced feet treading easily through the soft sand. At one time, it would have been packed flat by the number of feet walking the path, but that was just another thing time had changed.

Despite the heat, Yurei shivered as they walked past the buildings. ". . . Look at this place . . . . Nothing's the same."

"Didn't think it would be." Genji watched the crumbling walls of buildings warily. "I just hope that nothing collapses on us. The way this looks, I wouldn't be surprised if a wall just fell apart on us or a crossbeam tried to bisect me . . . ."

"Ugh. When did you get so negative?"

"When I got surrounded by all this _ugly_!" He waved an arm in an expansive gesture. "Look around! This place is a mess, and it used to be so nice! Back when people actually lived here!"

Yurei gave a soft snort. "'Surrounded by ugly,' huh? Gee, thanks."

"No! No, _you're_ not ugly, just the city is! It's all dingy and dirty and falling apart —"

"We used to live here, Genji."

He paused, then scowled. "Stop screwing with my head, Yurei. You're gonna make my brain explode." She merely giggled in response.

* * *

He watched them from a rooftop, lying flat so that he wouldn't be seen. Suspiciously-narrowed eyes followed as they made their progress along the street, arguing back and forth.

It wasn't so much that he was curious about them . . . but they carried supplies. Supplies that he could use.

Knowing that they planned to shelter in the Kazekage's tower, he squirmed backward, away from the roof edge, before getting to his feet. If he was to have a good chance of stealing some of their supplies, he would need to get there before they did.

He sped along, loose clothing flapping quietly. The man wore a sand-coloured cloak that reached his waist, with faded black pants and a mesh shirt underneath. He had no shoes, his feet wrapped in strips of cloth around the sensitive instep, as well as the ankle. They were calloused and perpetually dusty from treading through sand; the skin was dry, but mercifully unbroken.

At times becoming nothing more than a shadowy blur, the man bypassed the hunting trails of the wild dogs by sticking to the rooftops. It wasn't one of their usual hunting times; that wouldn't be for another couple hours, meaning his two "visitors" would be safe when they reached the tower.

He finally went to ground at the tower's base, looking around cautiously. He had made it well ahead of the two wanderers; now to find a place to hide until he could pounce. Opening the main door, he slipped inside and closed it behind him before slinking off along the darkened passages.

_If I were them, where would I set up camp?_

Abruptly, he looked up, as though he could see through the other stories to the tower's round top. He grinned. _Of course . . . . Why use some dingy little office when you could camp out in the Kazekage's?_

The red-headed stranger had talked about having a good view from the Kazekage's tower. They would either use the office with its large windows, or camp on top of the tower itself. If they did the latter, though, the cold of the desert night would undoubtedly force them indoors.

_Better safe than sorry. Hide somewhere too small for the two of them._

He made his way up to the top level, to a small door down the hall from the Kazekage's former office. Opening it, he stepped into the small janitor's closet and crouched. He left the door open just the slightest bit, with a tiny crack to see when his 'visitors' arrived.

Fifteen minutes later, they did. They seemed much more subdued now, and considerably sadder. The young woman paused outside the office doors.

"I dunno, Genji . . . ." She folded her arms, hugging herself uneasily. "I don't feel right, invading Gaara-sama's office for a campsite."

"It's not exactly his office anymore," the red-haired man, Genji, reasoned. He pushed the doors open and strode inside. "Stop jumping at ghosts, will you? We were in here all the time before; it's nothing new."

His companion followed him in, and the doors closed. Leaning back against the side wall of the closet, the man settled in to wait. He might as well catch a nap now — he would need to be alert later on.

Five hours passed, with almost agonizing slowness. The man didn't mind; it wasn't as though he had other places to be. He dozed off and on, always listening for footsteps or voices. He caught the occasional shout as the two argued (as they seemed prone to doing) but they never left the offices, and eventually even the shouts stopped.

He waited another half an hour, then got to his feet and slipped out into the hallway. Bare feet silent on the floorboards, he moved through the shadows to the office doors and paused to listen. Inside, he could hear the quiet breathing of the two, both deep and slow, indicating sleep. He eased the door open just slightly.

A kunai appeared in his hand from the folds of his cloak; he stuck the blade inside the new gap, using it as a mirror to see the room within. The girl was lying against the far wall, curled into a loose ball under her blanket. Her companion was under the windows, flat on his back, arms skewed at odd angles in his sleep.

Secreting the knife, the man opened the door further, just enough to squeeze inside and then close it again. The only light — and it wasn't much — came from the moon outside, shining out of a cloudless sky.

The man crossed the floor, silent as a shadow, keeping wary eyes on the two sleepers. He crouched by the girl's pack and undid the buckle. Inside were several packages wrapped in brown paper — dried food for the trip through the desert — and two water bottles, one empty and one partially filled.

He removed the empty water bottle, and three of the food packets; that left three for her, enough that she would be able to survive until she got well out of the desert. Fastening the buckle again, he left his prizes where they were and moved toward the young man's pack.

The deep purple scarf was practically invisible inside the patch of shadow. Sitting in a loose pile, it was directly in the man's path, as he soon discovered. The loose folds of the fabric caught his foot, causing him to stumble. For a moment he teetered, on the edge of losing his balance; in desperation, he reached for the edge of the large desk. His hand hit a paperweight near the edge, nudging it just enough to send it to the ground with a loud _thud!_

The room came remarkably alive in the span of two seconds. Losing his battle with gravity, the man dropped to the floor in a swath of moonlight from the windows as the other two sat up, alerted by the sudden noises.

Rising fluidly to his feet, the male redhead faced the man on the floor. "Yurei! Need some light, here!"

The man rolled into a defensive crouch, hearing a distinct "Lightning Style: Shock Therapy!" from his right. A blaze of flickering blue light sprang up, sending multiple shadows dancing across the walls, and illuminating all three people.

The young man, Genji, faced the nameless man. "Who are you?" No answer. "You always go around sneaking up on people like that?" He tensed as the man slowly stood straight, watching. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Maybe he's a mute?" Yurei suggested. She stood with both arms half-raised in front of her, tendrils of lightning dancing just above the skin and in between her fingers. As the man's eyes darted toward her, she tried a smile. "Look, we're not going to kill you or anything. Let's just all settle down."

"Yurei, don't smile; with that light, you look really creepy," Genji said dryly.

In a sudden movement, the man whirled and bolted for the door. Shadows shifted on the walls, messing with his vision; a shout from Genji, and a moment later, a live hydro wire connected with his spine.

Dropping to the floor, the man twitched violently, rolling onto his back. Yurei stood over him, hands still glowing, with a regretful expression. "Sorry, mister, but we still need to have a chat with you. Don't worry, we really don't mean to hurt you. Look . . . ."

The glow disappeared from her right hand, and she held it out to him. The man looked at it for a moment, then slowly got to his feet on his own. Yurei took a half step back, gesturing him toward the desk.

Genji was already sitting in the dusty chair, feet propped on the desktop, fingers laced together in front of his chin. His eyes were narrowed as he watched the stranger take a few steps forward. ". . . . Got a name?" he asked bluntly.

"Ryūkei." The man's voice was rough and scratchy-sounding from disuse. He swallowed a couple times, then tried again. "My name is Ryūkei."

Yurei took a small travel lantern from her pack, and set it on the desk. A touch from one electrified fingertip set the wick alight; once it was burning steadily, she let the lightning on her left hand fade. "Ryūkei . . . . 'Exile,' huh?"

'Ryūkei' nodded once in confirmation.

"You're not from Suna," Genji observed. "I never heard of anybody with that name coming from here. Where are you from?"

Hesitating a moment, Ryūkei studied the other male. ". . . . Konoha."

Perching on the edge of the desk, Yurei tilted her head to one side, frowning slightly. "Were you in the war, then?" She nodded toward her friend. "We were, but I don't remember seeing anyone that looked like you."

"Yeah, well, I look a little different now than I did back then," Ryūkei muttered, shifting uneasily. All the questions were beginning to get a little unnerving; who talked this much right after being woken up in the middle of the night?

"I see." Yurei glanced at her teammate, seeming to think about something. He looked back at her for a moment before she turned away. "Look, why don't you crash here for a couple of hours, until morning? We can talk more then."

Genji sat up straight, dropping his feet to the floor. "Hold on just a second, Yurei —"

"Thanks, but I really should —"

"Where do you get off trusting him already —"

"I have my own place I can go to —"

"He tried to steal our stuff, for crying out loud—"

"I wouldn't want to be in the way, so —"

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU." Thin midnight patience broken, Yurei cut across the simultaneous comments from the men. "Genji, you're just cranky because you got woken up. Back to your spot, and go to sleep; you won't even know he's here if you close your eyes. Ryūkei, don't worry about space or being a nuisance; whatever. There's enough room in here for the three of us. Besides, if you go outside now, you'll be freezing by the time you get wherever you were heading. Better to stay here and stay warm."

Slipping off the desk, she left the lantern where it was a sort of nightlight, going back to her own sleeping spot and settling down on her bedroll. "Like I said; we'll talk more in the morning. Good night."

Getting up from the chair, Genji cast a rueful look at Ryūkei. "When the girl says jump, all we can say is 'how high?'"

"_Sleep_, Genji."

Ryūkei moved to the wall opposite the desk, and settled down, wrapping his sand-coloured cloak around himself. He wasn't sure he completely trusted these two strangers yet, but he was confident that they wouldn't try to assassinate him while he slept. He was far too light a sleeper for them to succeed if they tried.

The room fell into silence again, as night slowly faded toward morning.


	3. Encroaching Danger

_A/N: Welcome! Chapter Two, ladies and gentlemen; though considerably shorter than Chapter One, things are starting to get interesting . . . . Thanks for reading; make sure and review!_

**Chapter Two**

Her eyes opened halfway, staring blearily at the other side of the room. Sunlight lit the room, the amount of dust evident from the layer that coated everything and the motes glittering in midair.

Breathing in as she stretched, Yurei sat up slowly, looking around the room. Genji was once again sprawled under the windows, Ryūkei curled against the opposite and wrapped in his cloak.

She took a moment to study the strange man; more details were visible in daylight than had been last night. He had a shock of hair so blond, it was almost white; it ran into a ponytail that came to the middle of his shoulders. A matching platinum blond beard covered his lower jaw; though kept trimmed for the most part, there were spots where it was slightly ragged.

He was still fairly young, approximately the same age as herself and Genji, but seemed much older. He had dark circles under his eyes, dirt smudged in multiple places on his face and clothes. Said clothes consisted of a ragged-edged, sand-coloured cloak, and black pants. His bare feet were wrapped at the instep as protection against hot desert sand. Yurei assumed there was a shirt under the cloak, but she had yet to see it.

For now, though, she supposed that it was time to face the day. Ryūkei would either say more about why he was here, or he wouldn't. It didn't really matter either way.

Getting up, she paused for a moment before going to wake Ryūkei first. If he woke up to both her and Genji standing over him, it was likely to send the already-defensive man right back onto his guard.

She crouched beside him, reaching out a hand to nudge his shoulder. Before she even touched him, his eyes opened, clear and alert.

"I'm awake," he muttered, shying away from the potential contact.

Yurei let her hand drop back to her side, standing again. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

Ryūkei rose as well, brushing dust from his cloak and pants. "Well enough," he answered. He glanced to the still-snoring Genji, then returned his attention to the girl before him. "What are your plans for the day?"

Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, Yurei put one hand on a hip, frowning contemplatively. "Well, we should find someplace to fill up on water; Genji said something about wanting to look around, for old times' sake. And then there's -" She paused; she probably shouldn't mention the other thing to him. "- some other places I want to check out. Like my old house," she lied.

* * *

There was a hesitation in her last sentence; she was hiding something from him. That was none of his business; if she didn't want to tell him, then that was just fine. Ryūkei was playing along for now, in the hopes that as Yurei and Genji left, they would leave some of their supplies behind with him. They seemed nice enough, so they just might. It would mean he wouldn't have to steal and add to his varied list of sins.

"I can take you to a water source," he said quietly, as Yurei moved to wake her friend. "There are still some scattered around the village."

"That'd be great; it'd save us a lot of searching around." With her foot, the dark-haired girl nudged Genji's shoulder. "Come on; up and at 'em. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"S'gonna be even longer if I have to spend it around him," the young man groused, squinting at Ryūkei. "Just as well we're not sticking around for long."

Yurei gave a light swat to the back of his head. "Be nice! He's going to help us find water. Get your pack together so we can go." She turned to her own backpack, picking up the three food packets that Ryūkei had removed the night before. Shouldering the bag, she passed a packet to each boy, keeping the third for herself. "Here. We can eat as we go, and drink when we get there."

The food was plain, but wholesome and filling: grains baked together with dried fruit into a crunchy ration bar. It was the same sort of food that Ryūkei had stockpiles of over most of the village, found in deserted homes, or made himself. It took a good long time to go bad — about five years, in truth — and was full of both energy and nutrients.

Bars half-gone by the time they reached street level, Ryūkei motioned the two visitors to wait. Holding his breakfast in his mouth, he eased open the tower's main door and stuck his head outside. A brief scan of the area showed no threat from the wild dogs; he opened the door fully and stepped outside.

"A pack of dogs moved into the village when the people left," he said tonelessly. "Fresh meat is around, but they'll take a human if they can."

Genji stepped through the doorway, glancing about. "They used to prowl the hills around the village, back in the day. It was a constant job making sure they didn't get in; they'd take some little kid or a pet."

Ryūkei nodded once, not really caring. "Water's over by an apartment complex. Ten minutes west."

They moved off in silence, falling into a triangular formation almost automatically and keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. Wind moaned quietly through an alleyway as they passed, stirring up little cyclones of sand. Ryūkei walked quickly; the sooner he showed these two where they could get water, the sooner he could get away from them.

The water source, when it came into view, consisted of a water tap in the centre of a courtyard. A three-story building rose around the yard like a squared-off horseshoe, with a fourth side consisting only of archways granting access. The three of them passed through, and stopped before the tap. It stood in the middle of a basin with tiny bones littering the bottom.

Yurei grimaced. "I remember this building . . . there used to be fish swimming in the basin . . . ."

"Without anyone to run water, it would've dried up," Genji added, voice hushed as he stared at the little skeletons. "That's just . . . sad . . . ."

Expressionless, Ryūkei reached out and rested a hand on the valve. "Get your bottles out." He twisted the handle, and watched. Water began drizzling from the valve, reddish-brown with rust.

Pausing in taking the water bottles from his pack, Genji's eyebrows shot up. "Uh . . . Ryūkei, I don't mean to be rude, but that doesn't really look . . . drinkable."

"Give it a minute."

Sure enough, the amount of brown in the water diminished quickly, until a thick trickle of clean, clear water was all that remained. Yurei and Genji quickly filled their bottles and stored them away; Ryūkei closed the valve when they'd finished.

"This is where we part ways," he said gruffly. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone that you saw me here."

"W-wait a minute," Yurei said. "You're not going to stick around? Just while we're here?"

The man shook his head. "I'm not really a people person. After all this time spent out here, I prefer to be alone. Good luck to the two of you." Turning, he sprang onto the top of one of the archways and sped off along it in a dark blur. He reached the rooftop and leapt to the next building, moving off in that fashion until he was out of sight.

Genji lifted one eyebrow. "I've only ever seen ninja move like that before . . . ."

"He _did_ say he was from Konoha, and that he was in the war," Yurei pointed out, settling her pack comfortably on her shoulders. "Guess this just confirms it."

"Yeah." Glancing sideways at his friend, Genji added in a lower tone. "At least it'll be easier to retrieve the you-know-what without him following us around. Speaking of which . . . ." He glanced around the area, making sure Ryūkei was gone. "We should probably get on that.

"Right."

As they moved off, Yurei snuck a look in the direction Ryūkei had headed. Maybe when they got back home, she'd ask around, see if anyone had ever heard of a man with his description.

* * *

For the second time in as many days, people moved across the desert toward an abandoned Sunagakure. Eight sets of footprints were lost across the trackless expanse of sand as their owners drew closer to their destination.

At last, the apparent leader of the party raised a hand, calling the others to a halt. "Teams of four; enter from the east and west and rendezvous on the main street. If you see something out of place, send up a flare." The hand lowered. "Disperse."

With a spray of sand, the two teams moved in blurs across the landscape, closing in on the city and the unsuspecting trio within.


	4. Four and Four

_A/N: Shoutout time! Thanks to FireFull12 for the review on Ch. 2, and consequently, the smile that I got from it. Also, thanks to all those who have added 'The Rebellion' to their Favourite Story or Story Alert lists! I hope you'll keep reading, and don't forget to review, even if it's just a few words. _

**Chapter Three**

He watched from a safe height as the wild dogs prowled past, on the lookout for one of their thrice-daily meals. Adults led the small pack, along with a few immature adolescents. Pups followed at the rear, playing as they went, under the watchful eyes of two older females.

Ryūkei held perfectly still until the pack disappeared around a corner, then dropped to the street and went off in the opposite direction. He moved because he simply couldn't sit still. Something deep inside told him that to do so would mean death.

The cliff surrounding the village was directly ahead, and the carved stone steps leading to the top. As he climbed, Ryūkei kept an eye on his steadily growing view of the area, perhaps to spot this phantom threat. Whatever it was, the feeling of danger grew stronger as he neared the top, still with no visible menace in sight.

_Maybe I'm imagining things . . . . Could be that I've been out in the sun for too long_.

He had to be sure, though. Had to be sure that nothing and no one was encroaching on the existence he'd set up for himself. Reaching the plateau, he moved off the stairs and stood at the very edge of the cliff. His eyes scoured the village below, searching . . . .

A pack of miniature dogs moved along toward the main street; the ones he'd avoided just fifteen minutes earlier. Farther to the north, two human-sized shapes emerged from the former records building. That would be Yurei and Genji, still exploring their old home as they had for the past two hours, he surmised.

Ryūkei ducked down, stretching himself flat on the clifftop so the two wouldn't spot him. The former ninja and the wild dogs weren't the source of the danger he felt; he just knew. There had to be something else in the area, either already in the village, or within close proximity. The trick was finding it.

Perhaps one of the buildings had been weakened by the sandstorm three nights ago, and was almost ready to collapse. Maybe some of the rocks in the surrounding wall were about to fall. Or there might be another sandstorm brewing.

With that last thought, Ryūkei twisted to look at the desert behind him . . . and froze. A thin plume of dust rose from the sand, with four ant-sized figures hurtling forward at the front of it.

Ryūkei's feeling of impending menace grew as he caught sight of them.

Still flat on the sand, he belly-crawled toward the steps, going down the first ten head-first until he was below the cliff edge. Getting his feet under him, he shot off downward at top speed, disregarding any attempt at stealth or energy conservation.

He reached the bottom and immediately checked the clifftop; no one stood on the edge, and no mystery figures were descending the steps. He had time.

Bolting across the open space between the surrounding wall and the nearest building, he fairly dove through a missing window, landing in someone's abandoned house. Crouching beneath the sill, he took a few moments to get his breath back and calm his racing heartbeat.

With a final deep breath, he turned and rose onto his knees, peering cautiously over the windowsill. Four distinct figures now stood on the clifftop, clearly surveying the village below. All wore desert cloaks to protect them from sun and sand, with hoods raised to conceal their faces. One, the apparent leader of the group, turned as though speaking to the others; all of them started down the steps to the ground below.

Ryūkei ducked back below the window, thinking hard. So long as an order wasn't given to search the buildings – and with only four people, he couldn't imagine that happening – he would be fine. But with strangers such as this, it was almost definitely better to be safe than sorry.

There was another window directly across the room from him, facing the opposite way from the stairs. He could use that to make his escape. He waited for a count of fifty heartbeats, enough time for the strangers to descend far enough that they wouldn't see him from overhead, and then made for the window. Climbing out, he checked the area around him, then headed off toward the main road.

The best thing to do right now was to find Yurei and Genji, and make sure the newcomers didn't spot them.

* * *

They exited the records building cautiously, checking for wild dogs before they fully left the doorway. Genji hefted his pack a little higher onto his shoulders. "At least it was where Gaara-sama said it would be. Makes our job that much easier."

Yurei closed the door behind them, throwing her shoulder against it to make sure it would stay closed. "I guess . . . ." She dusted off her hands with an uncertain expression. "Do you . . . think we should tell him about Ryūkei? I mean . . . I know he asked us not to, but he's living out here all alone. There's got to be a place for him –"

"Forget it, Yurei," her friend said, shaking his head. "He asked us not to tell anyone he was here, and that's what we should do. We have a mission to complete; we shouldn't worry about some guy we met along the way."

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath. "Yeah. You're right." Reaching out, she patted his pack. "Let's get this little gem back home."

"Now you're talking."

They moved off at a brisk pace along one side of the main street, heading toward the cleft in the surrounding cliffs that served as the main entrance gate.

Abruptly, Genji stopped, sticking one arm out in front of Yurei, forcing her to do the same. "Hold up. Someone's coming; probably Mr. Exile."

Yurei rolled her eyes as she pushed the arm away. "Be nice," she reminded him.

Sure enough, Ryūkei emerged from an alleyway up ahead just seconds later. He turned toward them, face set in a grim expression, and moved forward. Yurei smiled in greeting.

"Well, fancy meeting you here."

"No time for small talk," he said, brushing past the two of them. "There's trouble."

Pausing only to look at each other, the two former ninja followed him. "What are you talking about?" Genji said, one tone shy of demanding.

"Four strangers just entered the village from the eastern edge," Ryūkei bit out, eyes focussed on the records building. "Unless you're expecting them, I'd stay as far away as possible." He pulled open the door and ducked inside; Yurei and Genji followed.

"Do you think we still have a chance of getting out of the village?" Yurei said quietly, her voice echoing slightly in the large hall they stood in.

"Not if they've posted guards at possible exits," Genji muttered back. "But the only way to find out is if we try."

"You might not get a chance." Ryūkei was crouched near the door; he'd pulled it closed to just a crack and had one eye pressed close against it. "They're headed this way."

"Let me see." Yurei nudged him aside, then took his place, frowning as she watched the strangers approaching from almost one hundred metres away. "They don't look like any of our people. There's just the four of them?"

"That I saw," Ryūkei said, frowning at her. "What do you mean 'your people?'"

Genji leaned over Yurei to take his own look at the newcomers. "Whoa . . . looks like they've got company." He glanced over at Ryūkei. "Four more just showed up."

"Ssshhhh!" Yurei hissed. "They're saying something . . . ." She frowned intensely, straining to hear. "'Coast is clear . . . no signs of trouble . . . . should be easier than —"

She abruptly pushed back from the door, nearly running into her teammate. "They're coming this way."

"Second level," Ryūkei bit out, before turning and running for the stairs. The three of them ascended as quickly and as quietly as possible, flattening themselves on the second floor near the railing just as the doors opened.

The eight strangers filed inside. One - throwing back his hood to reveal fair skin and brown hair - went straight to a shelving unit against the wall, studying it carefully. "The instructions: which drawer do they specify?"

"Third one from the left, second from the bottom," one of the others answered.

"Whoever thought they could hide something so powerful in a place like this was an idiot," a third person scoffed, this time a woman. She folded her arms. "Did they think no one would come looking for it?"

"Quiet, Noa," the first man said sharply. Locating the right drawer, he pulled it open . . . and stared.

"Uh oh . . . ." Genji muttered, glancing to Yurei.

"What is it?" Ryūkei asked, trying to see what was in the drawer.

"It's empty!" the man below exclaimed angrily, slamming the drawer shut. "Someone beat us to it!"

Yurei gave Ryūkei a sheepish smile. "Well . . . you snooze, you lose, right?"

The woman who'd been chided pulled her hood off, revealing reddish-brown hair that framed her face. "It's gone? It can't be gone!"

Whirling, clearly furious, the man stalked toward her, fisted a hand in the collar of her cloak and pushed her back against the nearest wall. "You don't say," he growled. "Thanks so much for stating the obvious, Noa. I don't suppose you'd like to tell me the sky is blue?"

"Ridā-sama* was counting on us . . . to find that formula," Noa gritted between clenched teeth as she glared at her attacker. "If we don't secure it . . . he'll have us all executed . . . and I don't want to die, thank you very much."

"Michima, let her go," the second speaker from earlier said calmly. "This isn't her fault; the blame is on all of us. If we hadn't lost those two brats a week ago, we would've gotten here in time."

The angry Michima let go of Noa's collar and turned away; the woman smoothed her cloak in a dignified manner, her head held high.

"They must've only gotten here a day or so ago," Michima said broodingly. "And we didn't meet them on our way inbound . . . ."

"They could have gone by a different route," the other man said. He pushed his hood back, exposing a sandy-blond shock of hair and unperturbed brown eyes. "There are at least three old trade routes leading into and away from Sunagakure that —"

"I get it, Hiroshi." Moving to a window, Michima stared out, clearly thinking.

Ryūkei leaned close to Yurei, whispering. "They're talking about you and Genji, aren't they?" She nodded, and he scowled. "If we get out of this, we're going to have a long talk about what's going on."

Michima turned abruptly. "We'll search the village. I want two of you at the north and south ends of the village, up on the wall, the rest of you in a skirmish line. Comb the place from north to south, then east to west."

"And?" Hiroshi prompted, one eyebrow raised.

". . . And don't kill anybody you find," Michima said sullenly, glaring at the other man. "Just detain them and send up a signal for the others."

With a wave of his hand, the seven others left the records building; Michima himself crossed to a dusty reading chair and dropped into it, still scowling. The three spectators on the second floor drew back silently into the rows of bookshelves behind them.

"We'll have to wait here at least until the north-south sweep passes," Genji whispered. "Then find a better hiding place until after the east-west sweep." He touched the shoulder strap of his pack. "Today just got a whole lot more interesting."

* * *

* _Ridā = leader. For Noa to say 'Ridā-sama' means their boss is pretty high up on the food chain._


	5. Plans

_A/N: I went to see The Avengers last night. First movie of 2012, and it was worth every penny and then some. _

**Chapter Four**

The north-south sweep had passed over them just fifteen minutes earlier; they had managed to avoid detection by lying on a flat rooftop directly in between two of the strangers.

"What do you think?" Yurei whispered, directing the comment at Genji. "They're not liable to find the crawlspace."

"Crawlspace?" Ryūkei asked, one eyebrow lifted quizzically.

"If you think we can get there without them finding us, then I say yes," Genji nodded. "We'll be moving in their direction, though. We'll have to make it fast."

"Then let's get to it."

The three of them rose after a quick check around, then vaulted over the edge of the two-story building to the ground below, sprinting off through the sand. Ryūkei moved up next to Yurei, who led the trio.

"Where exactly are we going?"

She smiled. "My house had a crawlspace underneath it that Genji used to hide in whenever he was in trouble. If the academy teachers couldn't find him there, these people won't either."

"Hey, you used it too," Genji scowled. "Just keep your eyes open for —"

"Hey!"

They ground to a halt, seeing a single cloaked figure on a rooftop overhead. The person was slightly smaller than the rest, with a distinctly adolescent voice. Apparently lagging behind the rest of the skirmish line, he'd chanced upon on the group's quarry.

A hand appeared from beneath the cloak, holding a kunai. "Hold it right there! My boss wants to talk to you."

Genji crouched slightly. "Sorry, kid, we've seen the way your boss treats the people he works with. I don't thing we're interested in meeting him as prisoners."

Pushing back his hood, the boy showed himself to be in his late teens, with bright blue hair. His face was set in a determined frown. "It's not a question of whether you're interested or not. Michima-senpai ordered us to find you and bring you in."

"You and what army?" Genji fired back. He sprang from his crouch, launching himself upward at the boy. "Wind Style: South Wind Kick!"

He landed on the roof where the boy had been as the latter went flying back from the condensed wind that had hit him in the stomach. Genji paused for a shout of 'Run!' to his two companions below before he was off and sprinting along the rooftops. Yurei and Ryūkei followed at ground level.

At the first opportunity, Genji dropped from overhead to land beside them, and fell in beside Yurei. "He heard us talking about the crawlspace. They'll make sure to keep an extra-sharp eye out now; it's too risky for us to just find a place to hide."

"You two should make for the south entrance to the village," Ryūkei put in. "It's harder to find one person in a city than three people together."

"Wait a minute." Dodging sideways, Yurei opened the door of a house, and pointed them both inside. "Take a moment; we'll think better if we're not trying to run while we talk." Closing the door behind them, she put her hands on her hips. "Ryūkei, it's not safe for you to stay here anymore. I don't want to leave you here by yourself."

The man shook his head firmly. "I'm not leaving just because some people show up and would rather stick a kunai in me than shake my hand." He folded his arms. "Like I said: it'll be harder for them to find me if I'm on my own."

"I dunno," Genji said doubtfully. "They'll be pretty riled up now. They're liable to search the entire city for you, especially if Michima is half as ticked about this as I think he'll be."

"They'll find your tracks, they'll find wherever you've been living, and then they'll find you," Yurei said seriously. "Look, I'm not saying that if you come with us, you have to [i]stay[/i] with us. Wait a couple weeks, then come back here; they'll probably be long gone by then."

Ryūkei hesitated. ". . . Where will you be going if you leave?"

Yurei turned to Genji, an uncertain expression on her face. "That's a good question. What do you think?"

The redhead rubbed his chin in thought, staring out one of the house's windows. "If we leave by the south entrance, we can double back north and go right for the others."

Ryūkei held up a hand. "Wait a second. You're talking about going back to the 'people' you mentioned in the records building?" The other two nodded. "And what people would that be?"

The two traded an uneasy glance. "See, that's the thing . . . unless we actually know for sure that you're going to come with us and won't sell anybody out, we can't tell you," Genji said, shrugging. "They're all very . . . suspicious. They don't let just anybody know who they are."

Folding his arms, Ryūkei scowled. "And how do I know you're not going to sell [i]me[/i] out?"

"Because you were willing to let us leave before," Yurei said reasonably. "If you didn't trust us to keep your secret, you would have had to kill us."

With a final hesitation, the desert man nodded. "Fine. I will see you as far as wherever this organization of yours is located; then I'll head back here." He glared back over his shoulder in the direction the boy had been. "And these people had better be gone by then."

Smiling, Yurei reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "They will be. Come on; let's go to your hidey-hole so you can pack a bag. You'll need one to cross the desert."

* * *

Michima stared at the young man standing in front of him; the boy's expression was twisted slightly with pain. ". . . Well, Sōma, you must have taken quite the beating. What did they do to you?"

Sōma grimaced, rubbing at his aching back. "The red-headed man hit me with some sort of Wind Style attack, senpai. I heard him tell the others to run, but I didn't see where they went after that."

_Slap!_ Backhanding the teen across the face, sending him reeling, Michima rose to his feet. "Useless!" he snapped. "Can't you master a simple concept like detaining a fugitive?"

Clutching his cheek, Sōma stayed where he was on the floor as Michima turned to the rest of his followers. "And the rest of you! Not hide nor hair of them? That's just pathetic! You're all supposed to be former ninja; start acting like it!"

"We were just about to start the east-west sweep when you summoned us," Noa said evenly, shooting her commander a thinly-veiled glare. "We'll keep sharper eyes out this time; we'll find them."

"You had better pray you do," Michima growled, stalking up in front of her until they were nose-to-nose. "Because one of those three is carrying what we came here to get, and if I don't have it in my hands by sundown, it'll be your neck on the line. Do you understand me?"

Hiroshi intervened, as he had earlier. "The guards on the cliff top have an uninterrupted, panoramic view of the area. Our three fugitives can't escape the village so easily. We'll find them, Michima."

Growling under his breath, Michima turned away. "So what are you waiting for?"

The rest of the group looked to Hiroshi, who nodded toward the exit. They all filed out, leaving their leader to brood by himself.

* * *

"It's not going to be easy, and we're going to have to be completely silent, but it should work," Yurei said, the three of them crouched inside the abandoned house that Ryūkei used as his personal home base within the village. The sandy floor allowed the dark-haired girl to sketch out a rough diagram of the surrounding area to explain her plan.

"With no streetlights, or light from buildings, this place is going to get very dark once the sun goes down. All we have to do is stay hidden until then, then get to the cliff top and head out into the desert." She pointed to an X at both north and south positions outside the circle that was Sunagakure.

"We heard Michima say that he wanted guards here and here . . . that leaves the eastern and western sides more open. The surrounding land is flat, so the guards could still see us in silhouette if we stand up. Once we reach the cliff top, we'll have to stay flat, and get as far away as we can before sun-up."

Lifting her head, she glanced between the two boys. "Make sense?"

"Simple, straightforward . . . I like it," Genji nodded. "Gives us a bit of time to rest up before we head out, too."

"What direction are we heading once we leave the village?" Ryūkei asked, adjusting a shoulder strap on his freshly assembled pack.

"North," Yurei said. "From here, it should only take two days to reach the edge of the desert, and we can stop off in the ruins of Ishigakure for extra supplies." Standing, she dusted herself off before moving to the window. "You guys get some sleep; I'll keep an eye out for our friends."

Ryūkei glanced at Genji as the other stretched out on the sand, using his pack as a pillow, before asking his new question. "You said 'the ruins of Ishigakure.' That village is gone too?"

Looking over from her position, Yurei frowned. "Yeah; all the Hidden Villages were abandoned after the war, remember?"

Ryūkei shook his head. "There's a lot I don't remember anymore."

Sad-faced, Yurei wiped a hand over the sketch of her plan, obliterating it and smoothing the sand. "There was no one to even go back to them. After the White Zetsus and undead army made that last push, our forces finished them off, but not without considerable losses."

Her lips pressed together briefly in discomfort. "A lot of the Allied Shinobi forces broke ranks and bolted. That masked guy set off a massive jutsu, like an earthquake, and killed or injured a lot of those who stayed. Those who could, escaped. Those who didn't, or were left behind, were . . . well, they're mostly considered killed in action."

Ryūkei sat perfectly still, stunned. "I remember all that . . . but I would have thought that some villages might have people come back. Especially Konoha or Kumo . . . . I thought Suna was too far out of the way, too isolated for people to bother with . . . that's why I came here."

Genji's voice was quiet as he spoke. "Mr. Masked Man was pretty on-the-ball about establishing a bigger presence after the war. Thanks to his reputation with the Akatsuki, he was able to gather a huge group of rogue and former ninja, plus mercenaries, thieves, bounty hunters . . . any scum of the earth that he could. They're his new 'army.'"

"The last we knew," Yurei interjected, "they were as scattered as the former allied forces, only they're keeping watch for any known shinobi or kunoichi. Anyone even [i]acting[/i] like a ninja. And if they find someone, they drag them right to Maskface and let him deal with them."

Frowning, pondering that, Ryūkei murmured, "So they're a secret police force . . . ." His head came up. "In the records building; that woman said that 'Ridā-sama' was counting on them to retrieve something. That must be Masked Guy. And that other man said something about having followed two people . . . ."

"He was talking about us," Genji confirmed. "We noticed those eight following us when we stopped over in Tanzaku Quarters on the way here. We managed to lose them and get here before they did, but they must have been able to track us after all. They're after what we took from the records building."

"Which was?"

The two former Suna ninja exchanged one of their repertoire of simultaneous looks; this one serious and full of caution.

"We . . . can't say," Yurei finally hedged. "Remember the people we work for? They expressly told us not to reveal what it was we came to get, not to anyone but them. If it fell into the wrong hands . . . ."

"I understand." Lying back on the sand, a few steps away from Genji, Ryūkei folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Whatever – their problems weren't his problems. He was simply going with them to wherever their secretive masters were, then turning around and coming back.


	6. Flight

**Chapter Five - Flight**

Genji pulled himself over the edge of the cliff top on his stomach, glancing around carefully before he stage-whispered an 'all clear.' Moments later, Yurei and Ryūkei joined him, cloaked as he was against the chilly desert night.

"We should go northwest for a little while, then start heading due north," Yurei murmured, tilting her chin in the indicated direction. "Just so we get a little extra distance between us and the guard at the northern edge."

"Then let's get to it," Genji agreed. Using their elbows and knees, the trio squirmed off through the sand into the darkness.

"I'm sorry, Michima-senpai; there's not hide nor hair of them throughout the entire village."

Glowering at the young man in front of him, Michima stayed where he was, lounging sulkily in the desk chair that had once seated the Kazekage. "Is that so, Yūichi? And are you absolutely sure you looked everywhere?"

"Yes, sir," was the calm answer. "The only explanation is that they escaped. Without much of a moon to see by, they could have gotten past the guards —"

"Careless!" Michima exploded, coming to his feet so quickly that he knocked the chair backward. "Didn't I say that they have the serum? If they get it back to their people, and we go back empty-handed, Ridä-sama will have all our heads!"

"They can't have gone too far," Hiroshi interjected, once again the voice of reason. "Leave three here in case they return, and the other five can go to pick up their trail and track them down."

The voice of reason found himself almost immediately face-to-face with the voice of wrath. "Are you_ trying_ to undermine my authority, Hiroshi?" Michima asked softly, eyes narrowed. "Would _you _like to lead this squadron?"

"With you at the reins, I don't see how I could," was the reply. Lowering his voice, Hiroshi leaned closer. "Hot-headed threats will only do so much. As a leader, you have to give your people direction. The threats will galvanize them to action, but you must_ provide _that action; tell them what to do, otherwise, they won't do it."

Calming visibly, Michima nodded. "I see. Very . . . insightful." Hiroshi took a step back and bowed silently, and the group's leader turned back to the others. "He makes a good point. Yūichi, Sōma, and Tanrei: gather the packs. We're moving out."

The three youngest members of the group nodded grimly and in determination. Michima turned toward the door, his long desert cloak billowing ominously around him. "The rest of you, with me. We'll retrieve Ressa and Toku from their watches, and see if there's a trail to be found."

The last sentence, he muttered to himself as he left the records archive. "Ridä-sama isn't taking_ my _head. Not if I can help it."

Midnight came and went before the three fugitives felt safe enough to get to their feet. Yurei rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen the tension brought on by three and a half hours of using her arms to pull herself along.

"Not the most flashy of escapes, but I think we did pretty well," she said optimistically.

Genji gave her a look that was part irritation, part sulk. "There's sand in my pants," he stated flatly. "Tell me how that qualifies as a good thing."

"At least we got away clean," Ryūkei said, shaking grit from his cloak. "But if we want to stay that way, we should keep moving, at least until dawn, then find somewhere to rest until tomorrow night."

"Good idea," Yurei agreed. "It'll let us avoid the worst of the heat."

The three of them started off again, trudging through the loose desert sand. Yurei glanced behind them, at the tracks they were leaving. "Genji, can you do something about our footprints? If the enemy gets this far out, it'll be better to _not_ leave them a trail to follow."

The redhead nodded once in confirmation, then extended a hand behind him; his fingers made a swirling motion, and little gusts of wind stirred the hundreds of grains into motion. Within seconds, their footprints were smoothed over.

Ryūkei glanced backward, watching the effect. "Handy trick," he commented, facing forward again.

"He always got top marks in evasion exercises," Yurei said wryly, rolling her eyes. "Until we figured out his game. He'd cover his tracks, double back into the village, and be napping in the classroom when we got back."

"When the cats are away, the mouse will play," Genji said, shrugging. "You're just jealous that neither Lightning or Water Style is good for anything like what I can do."

"No, but it's a good way to shut you up," the dark-haired girl said, her smile more of a warning than true good humour. "Maybe I should use it now?"

The brewing argument was interrupted by Ryūkei. "Water Style seems a little . . . strange, for someone who grew up in the desert. Wind, not so much, but even Lightning is different from normal, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, Yurei's a little different than the other kids," Genji muttered. Anticipating the swat aimed at the back of his head, he ducked as Yurei's hand swished past harmlessly.

Dropping her hand back to her side, she turned her attention to Ryūkei. "My parents weren't originally from Suna; we moved to the village when I was two. Dad worked with the mining operations, in the gold trade. I entered the academy at five, graduated at twelve, and was put into the same team as Genji." She indicated said teammate with a nod. "He's a Suna native, by the way. Born and bred."

"Out of curiosity," Genji put in casually, "what chakra nature do you use, Ryūkei?"

The desert man shrugged. "Wind Style, like you."

"Really . . . huh. I would've pegged you for Water or maybe Fire Style." The redhead shrugged. "Oh well. I guess you really can't tell a book by its cover."

Ryūkei didn't say anything, merely shifted his gaze to the sand in front of his feet, and the trio fell into silence. One hour, then two went by, with minimal further conversation. Fatigue began dragging at muscles as the three fugitives battled the constantly shifting terrain.

It was just past three in the morning when Genji stopped, shaking first one leg, then the other. "I don't remember the trip in to Suna being this hard a walk," he commented, continuing to stretch weary limbs.

"It's just because you haven't really slept in almost thirty-six hours," Yurei reassured him. "Another few hours, and we can stop to get some rest, okay?"

"Maybe not."

When they turned to look at him, Ryūkei's finger was pointing out across the desert in the direction they'd come. A dust cloud was rising in the distance, turned silver by the moonlight.

"How can they have followed us?" Genji exclaimed, tiredness temporarily forgotten. "Our tracks were covered perfectly, I'm sure of it!"

"But we didn't cover the tracks we left as we were leaving the village, back when we had to crawl," Yurei pointed out grimly. "They must have found those, and then guessed from there."

Ryūkei tensed just visibly. "Should we run for it?"

"Or stand and fight?" Genji added, hands curling into fists.

"No," Yurei said slowly, one finger on her chin as she thought. "I think there's one more option." Dropping to the sand, she moved off due east in the same manner as when they'd left the village. "Follow me. Genji: make sure to cover the tracks this time."

Both men started after her, pulling themselves through the sand. Genji paused every few metres to disturb the sand over their tracks, hiding the flattened paths of grit from view. Ryūkei kept an eye on the dust cloud, watching as it moved across the desert behind them.

Finally, Yurei stopped, and turned to face them. "This should be far enough," she murmured, gauging the distance between them and the cloud. She pointed at the sand in front of them. "Genji, I need an East Wind Slam, as quietly and as far down as you can, then another one straight across. Got it?"

Understanding broke through the redhead's obvious confusion. "Oh! Your old 'glass houses' trick! Gotcha!" He moved a little further away from the other two.

"'Glass houses?'" Ryūkei questioned, lifting one eyebrow.

Yurei grinned. "Another throwback to the good old days. You'll see."

The ground below them vibrated slightly, and a dark hole appeared where Genji's fist had hit the sand; a hole big enough for the boy himself to fall into. Seconds later, there was another vibration, and a stage-whispered "All done!"

Crawling to the edge of the hole, Yurei and Ryūkei reached down to help Genji climb out. He dusted himself off, the dark sand of the desert underlayer falling off his clothing in little clumps. "Your turn," he told his teammate.

Shrugging out of her cloak, Yurei passed it to him, then jumped into the hole. "Spread that over top so the light doesn't attract our friends," she told him. "Better use yours too, just to be safe."

"Right."

The two boys spread the cloaks over the top of the hole, Ryūkei still mystified as to what was going on. Genji, on the other hand, seemed completely serious and focussed on the task at hand. Once the double layer of fabric was in place, he said, "All right, Yurei. Hit it."

Ryūkei couldn't make out the words that the girl muttered, but there was suddenly a soft crackling noise that he recognized all too well: the sound of Lightning Style jutsu being activated. He looked to Genji for some clue as to what was happening in the hole, and found the other boy grinning back at him.

"Hey, don't look so worried. There's a bunch of holes like this all over this desert. Every time we had to cross it, we'd make a place like this for the night. It's totally safe."

"All right, guys — we're good to go," Yurei's voice said from beneath the sand.

Genji pulled back the cloaks, and Ryūkei peered down into the hole . . . to find it shimmering in the moonlight. The lightning had melted the sand into an L-shaped glass tube, secure from the wind and their pursuers. Yurei grinned up at him.

"Pretty cool, huh? Come on down."


End file.
